


Can't Catch Me

by ereshai



Series: The Christmas Cookie Capers [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crack, Gen, I'm Sorry, M/M, gingerbread
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Feelstide 2013, prompt #70 - a supervillain creates an army of gingerbread men</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Catch Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. Really. Merry Christmas?

The call to assemble came a week before Christmas. Clint was in the communal kitchen with Steve, baking cookies; well, Steve was baking cookies – chocolate chip, because he used to get them in care packages during the war, and he was feeling nostalgic – and Clint was testing the results. Clint had tried to drop hints about _his_ favorite kind of cookie, but Steve was being stubborn.

Clint honestly couldn’t remember if they turned off the oven before they ran out of the kitchen to meet with Hill in the room Tony had set aside for SHIELD business, but he figured JARVIS would take care of it. He had more important things to worry about, like-

“Gingerbread men? Invading a small town in Indiana?” Tony’s incredulous voice interrupted Hill’s briefing. Hill’s glare wasn’t quite as good at Phil’s patented unimpressed stare, but Clint had to admit he was a little biased. But he shouldn’t even be thinking about that because-

“Are they made out of real gingerbread?” He didn’t appreciate Hill turning her glare on him; he really wanted – needed – to know.

“From what we can determine,” Hill said, “they are being controlled remotely. We’ve tracked the signal to a location outside of Santa Claus-“

“That’s really the name of the town?” Tony broke in. “I thought you were joking.”

“And the Avengers are going to neutralize that signal, as well as whoever is behind it,” Hill continued forcefully. “SHIELD will take care of the actual gingerbread men.” Her face tightened as she said those words.

“Aww,” Clint protested. He really wanted to see those gingerbread men up close. An army of one foot tall cookie people releasing knockout gas from their candy cane ‘guns’? And he was going to miss it?

“We would prefer intact specimens when this is over,” Hill told them. “I wouldn't use the words Avengers and intact in the same sentence.”

“And yet, you just did,” Tony said with a smirk.

“Maybe if you add the word ‘not’,” Bruce said at the same time, but only Clint heard him.

“I’ve uploaded the coordinates. You’re cleared to leave as soon you’re ready.” Hill disappeared as the holographic projectors cut out.

“Let’s suit up,” Steve said. “It looks like we need to save Christmas.”

Clint looked at his watch. Phil was due in about six hours, unless his team got called out again. That should be just enough time to deal with this gingerbread uprising.

==

Clint was starting to regret wanting to see the gingerbread men up close. They were small and cute, until you got too close and received a face full of tranquilizing gas. Which was exactly what had happened to Bruce when they had gotten too close to the villain’s gingerbread house-lair, triggering lots and lots of cookie soldiers to attack. So Hulk wasn’t around to smash the house, and thus the source of the controlling signal, and wouldn’t that have made things a lot easier?

“Why does this guy hate Christmas?” Tony shouted as he hovered over the scene, blasting the things to crumbs. The smell of burning cookies filled the air. Clint’s stomach growled.

The tiny army was indeed made of real gingerbread, somehow baked around a metallic skeleton. They were covered in decorative icing, which also hid their segmented joints. A blinking antenna stuck out of each little head. Thor, Natasha and Steve were in the thick of things, face masks in place to avoid getting knocked out by the gas, stomping the hell out of everything they could reach. That was only effective if they destroyed the antennae, of course. Thor was swinging Mjolnir about with abandon; he hadn't bothered with a face mask, but that wasn't slowing him down. Clint was up a tree, searching for the transmitter so he could take it out.

“This doesn’t look like Christmas hate to me,” Clint said as he scanned the frosted roof. “This is more like…a Christmas dictator wannabe.”

“That makes no sense.”

“We’re fighting robot cookies. Does that make sense? Ahh, there it is.” The transmitter was disguised as a large peppermint candy, but the pulsing light coming from within gave it away. Clint lined up his shot and fired, the explosive head of the arrow detonating on contact. It was a small explosion, so the roof didn’t collapse, but the entire gingerbread army did.

“YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS OUTRAGE.” The voice came from everywhere at once, including the small speaker attached to the branch right above Clint’s head.

“Ow, fuck,” he yelled, covering his ringing ears. He climbed down as quickly as he could; villains usually had a lot to say when they knew they had an audience. He was proven right very shortly.

“YOU CAN’T STOP ME. I WILL DESTROY THE TRAPPINGS OF THIS CULTURE’S OVER-COMMERCIALIZED, SO-CALLED CHRISTMAS SEASON. STARTING WITH ITS FIGUREHEAD, SANTA CLAUS.”

Clint joined the others on the cookie-littered front lawn. The smelled of charred cookie was overpowering. Clint sighed. He suddenly wasn’t that hungry.

Natasha had already shot out one of the security cameras under the cover of the booming voice. Clint pointed out another one, and Thor tossed Mjolnir at it, reducing it to plastic shards and frayed wires.

“I find no sport in this,” Thor said. “Come, let us have words with this mischief maker.”

“AND WHEN I HAVE DEPOSED THE FALSE KING OF CHRISTMAS, I WILL SHINE MY BENEVOLENT COUNTENANCE UPON THE MASSES…’

Thor knocked the door down with one blow, and they all entered. The inside did not match the exterior; there was a definite mad scientist vibe going on with all the blinking lights on strange looking pieces of electronic equipment. Actually, it was more like the Batcave from Batman – Adam West, not Christian Bale.

Their enemy was nowhere in sight, but Natasha found the secret door – there’s always a secret door – and they descended into the basement. There were more blinking lights, with the added bonus of steam coming from somewhere; Clint supposed you couldn’t really call a plumber if you were rocking an evil lair.

The bad guy turned out to be a woman. She was sitting in front of a bank of dark monitors, speaking into a microphone; she didn’t seem to have heard them.

“…there will be a new order, a Christmas revolution,” she read from her notecards.

“Excuse me? Ma’am?” Steve said, polite but firm.

The villain whirled around, revealing her…unique…armored costume. She was basically a giant gingerbread woman, complete with a gumdrop buttons. A helmet in the shape of a giant gingerbread head with a painted on face was set on the console nearby, right next to her candy cane weapon.

“Where did you get _that_?” Clint blurted.

The woman – Ginger, Clint decided to call her – had opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, looked thoughtful, then said, “I built it myself.”

“Sweet,” Clint said. “Weird, but awesome.”

“You won’t distract me so easily,” Ginger began, only to be knocked out by Natasha’s Widow’s Bite.

They all looked at each other.

“It’s never this easy,” Tony said.

“It’s a Christmas Miracle,” Steve replied.

==

The Avengers arrived back at Stark Tower a short time later.

“I’m going to wash the smell of gingerbread out of my hair,” Natasha said. “I don’t want to even hear the word for a very long time.” She gave Clint a hard look.

“What? Why are you looking at me?” Clint crossed his arms.

“You know.”

Clint just shook his head. They all filed into the elevator, where JARVIS greeted them.

“Congratulations on a successful mission.” Bruce ducked his head. Despite everyone’s assurances, he was deeply embarrassed by what had happened to him. “Agent Barton, your guest has arrived.”

“Aw, yeah, Phil’s here. Where is he, JARVIS?”

“On the communal floor. I have informed him of your arrival.”

Clint fidgeted the entire short elevator ride, almost bursting through the doors as they opened. The rest of the team followed more slowly. They were excited to see Phil, of course, but not nearly as excited as Clint. Probably because they didn’t get to have sex with him. Christmas sex. Almost as good as birthday sex.

“Hello.” Phil stepped out of the kitchen, a plate in his hands. Everyone stopped and sniffed the air, their faces turning slightly green.

“What’s that?” Tony asked, accusation in his voice.

“I got here early, so I thought I’d make Clint’s favorite.” He held up the plate. “Gingerbread cookies.”

“Aw, yeah,” Clint said. He grabbed one, and bit its gingerbread head right off.


End file.
